Reverie Theory
by sleep-silent
Summary: I really should have died that night. I should have been six feet under, rotting away and becoming forgotten. Alas, a much crueler fate beckoned me. As I inevitably drew closer I realized that this fate was not just my fate, but Kurosaki's as well. Hopefully he'll forgive me for it, but I'll understand if he doesn't. Warnings inside. AU.
1. preamble I

**WARNINGS: Slow development, alternate universe, possible OOC, sexual themes, graphic sex, yaoi, violence, drug abuse, and swearing.**

A/N: **I'm so grateful that I was able to indulge my self into this story with such passion, this work is as good as I can do at this point in my life. So despite that I'm no quixotomy or Mistress Penelopye or whatever I hope that whoever may read this can still enjoy it. I would very much appreciate it if readers out there who come across this and do read it give me feedback. I want to know how I can make this better for you guys. Maybe I can also to impress a few souls out there; hit a few soft spots or make you feel what the character is feeling. Also, if it weren't for my beta, I don't think I could even provide this story; ****_Thank you so, so much _****_Kajima_****. Even though Kajima has just started out in editing my work, she has really helped me. Her beta touch doesn't take place until chapter two. JoanIncarnate was my beta for chapter one and I appreciate her help immensely! ****_Thank you so, so much _****_JoanIncarnate_****!**

**This story was inspired by all the wonderful stories out there that I've come to read, each and every one helped me decide on this and as I continue to read I become further inspired, so thank you. And as long as I know that there's at least one person out there reading it-even if it's just my beta editing my work-then I know I can keep writing.**

**Thankyouthankyouthankyou... etc.**

**OK, I'm done.**

* * *

_Writers end up writing about their obsessions. Things that haunt them; things they can't forget; stories they carry in their bodies waiting to be released. _-Natalie Goldberg

* * *

preamble

**I**

I couldn't pinpoint exactly how I got here in this damnable, sterile room. Everything was white. My clothes, my bed sheets, the curtains, walls. Even beyond the pristine window was a city blanketed in fresh snow, sprinkling down like meaningless fluff and shrouding anything that wasn't covered in this pasty shit.

I hate the color white. It's so boring, so clean. Meaningless. It reminds me of a blank slate, a person full of nothingness. Someone who doesn't know happiness or sadness, friendship or enemies. A person with no scars or memories.

Heh, I probably needed that, but I wouldn't change anything that ever transpired in my life. If I never did the things I did then I wouldn't have known _him_. It sounds fucked up, but I'm glad I started using. If I had been an empty shell and followed the rules, got good grades, never fought, then I wouldn't have stuck out. (OK, maybe I stuck out by default with my hair, but that's beside the point). Kurosaki wouldn't have noticed a struggling introvert.

Now that I think of it, sitting here, unable to move or speak but just think I've come to an epiphany: Kurosaki Ichigo being the most persistent asshole on the planet helped me immeasurably.

I know, its confusing shit. Like I said, I don't know how it happened really. I mean I know how I got here in this hospital—that was too clear for comfort, full of copious amounts of anguish—but I don't know how Kurosaki and I came to be what we are. I can't even tell you what we are because I don't have the slightest fucking clue.

So here it is. Here_ I_ am, ready to explain what happened in my life that managed to get me here: stuck in this hospital, wondering if Kurosaki was coming with flowers. He knew I really liked orange orchids. I bet he would be showing up soon with some. He would be looking tired but happy to see me conscious, even if just barely, before punching me on my good arm and setting off on an hour long lecture and-

What was I saying?

Oh. My life affairs that brought me here.

Shit, here goes nothing.

* * *

_January_

_Karakura Elementary_

_3rd Grade_

The first time my eyes saw him I was, in a nutshell, hopeful. His crazy hair—shouting its existence out to every living, breathing soul—matched up to mine. Again, hopeful was what I was, even though I knew not one person or _thing _could compensate for my characteristics. Dwelling in Japan only supplied more credibility towards my exaggeration about Kurosaki's hair.

And that face. So full and round. Chubby pink cheeks that were always pushed aside to make room for his blinding grin. He didn't care about anything. He wasn't one to cry over spilled milk, but instead laugh at his clumsiness.

I had no idea what it was that made him so happy until the day I saw him getting picked up from school.

It would be easier to picture it as a scene from a movie. A woman with brightly colored hair and tranquil beauty waited outside, smiling just as her son was. The sun shone bright above their heads as she joined her hand in his and got down on one knee, pushing his loud hair from his forehead to make room for a kiss. Accompanying her were two girls. They looked like they just bypassed the diaper phase, obviously much younger than Kurosaki. They were clinging onto the woman's pant legs, smiles growing as they greeted Kurosaki.

I wasn't jealous, I had a mother. Soft spoken and fragile. Kurosaki's mom reminded me of her, actually. The only significant difference was that my mother couldn't come to my school to walk me home, couldn't move blue strands from my face to give me little kisses. She couldn't even get out of bed and check the mail, let alone pick me up from elementary school.

OK, maybe I was a little jealous, or rather, envious.

Kurosaki had the pleasure of greeting his mother after school, going home to eat her home cooking, and perhaps even getting tucked in at night to accept another kiss. I got to go home, check on my own mother, make her a meal, tuck her in and get on the tips of my toes to touch my forehead to hers. Kurosaki didn't get that. Then again, his mother's death wasn't looming over his head, which is where my envy was probably rooted at.

Still, we aren't talking about my withering mother. We were talking about Kurosaki.

I can recall our first meeting with the same clarity as the image of the back of my hand. Or Kurosaki's hand.

It was winter, and it was cold as shit. I wanted to wear my big blue sweater my mom bought for me when she was in the States, but I left it behind by accident. Saying goodbye to mom took longer than expected that day and I breathlessly tried to make it to school before everyone took their seats. Before they took _my_ seat and sabotaged it. Again.

Yeah, I was a real pussy back then. A big cry baby, a momma's boy. I was exactly what I'm _not _now.

Anyway, right as I sat down in my little red seat various paper balls and spit balls pelted the back of my head until recess. I didn't have to turn around to see who it was. Aside from hearing that slick, creepy voice laughing, I needed no more evidence to know that Ichimaru was at it again for the fourth time this week (and it was only Wednesday). He was a bully and his friends were too. There was some kid with pinkish hair and golden eyes whose name was so foreign I could never remember it, much less pronounce. There was one more, named Nnoitra. I couldn't tell you who was creepier: Gin Ichimaru or Nnoitra Jiruga—they were both so unnatural looking, it was unnerving.

I never understood why they picked on me when they clearly had some of their own issues to sort out. I guess me being a complete loner with a permanent scowl etched onto my face helped with their ambition.

It was quite annoying, let me tell you, being a little kid. Everything was a soft spot for me. Everything they did or said pushed my buttons, made my eyes well up and made me want to tell my mom. I always wondered how people could get pleasure from other people's displeasure; Mom told me that that was what made me a good person. Of course, I didn't believe her.

After our class time was spent, we lined up and made way for recess. Crisp, cold air singed my skin as I stepped out onto the half frozen playground. People all around me did not have the time of day to notice my dwindling comfort level, they were all too absorbed in the race for the set of vacant swings.

Well, it wasn't like _no one _noticed. There was still Gin.

"Whadda we got here? Ya cold, Grimm?"

That was what my mom called me. I hated it coming from them. It made my stomach churn and my face lighten two shades.

"Go away." I managed to assert two skittish words beyond my teeth, sounding light years away from the intimidation level I had in mind.

I watched timidly as Gin fisted the silvery snow and shaped it into a ball. He looked back and snickered to his friends. As he prepared to hurl the ball of snow at my face, I turned away ran towards the bare cherry blossom tree.

I felt the light pounding of snow smack my back, melting on my shirt. Another one was flung into the side of my head, hitting my ear and making it go cold and turn red. All I could do was muster up an irritated, tear filled grunt and walk away. I willed myself with every ounce of power to not cry. My frigid fists were balled up and I felt like my fingernails would draw blood from my palms.

I kept walking. The tree became bigger in my view as I stomped towards it, but I didn't make it there safely in time. Gin was at my heels, stepping on them until the backs of my shoes revealed my ankles. I turned around in his face and caught a quick glance of his ice cold eyes. He could never look me in the eye, but I never cared (and still don't) to find out why.

"Yer shoes are untied."

_Don't look down, Grimmjow. He's lying, he wants you to fall for it. Don't do it._

"Tch. I thought I said go away." This was the first occasion I became brash. Looking back, I'm fairly certain I chose the wrong person.

"Oh, right." Gin's voice lowered too many octaves to count. I swallowed a golf ball of fear, my body went static.

However, thanks to Ichimaru, my body was in motion once again. My face was lobbed into the snow. I don't remember him pushing me, all I can recall now is his satisfied cackle.

"I'll _go away_ now." I could hear a smile on his face before he walked away.

I laid there for a while, feeling the snow melting into my clothes and hair. I turned myself over to look at the sky and wait for recess to be over. My mind buzzed with my situation at hand, I mulled over Gin and his schoolmates.

Why they picked on me wasn't really a mystery, they bluntly ranted it in my face whenever they got the chance. It had started with my hair, people other than my tormentors called me unnatural and picked fights with me over that. It was either that or they ignored me completely like I didn't exist. My face turned blank over time and my efforts to socialize vanished along with my self-confidence.

But that day, my mundane routine hit a bump and soon enough, that provoked a domino effect. Kurosaki was evidently that bump.

My sight became vague and my ears went keen as sneakers in the snow came closer to me. I braced myself out of paranoia, fearing it to be Gin again, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes shut.

"Hey." Kurosaki poked my head with the toe of his shoe and my eyes cracked open. His head blocked the sun from my face and all I could selectively see was his eyes. Brown orbs looked me up and down. They were so full, seemingly too big for his face but warm and fitting. I lost myself for a second in them before they came back to meet mine. I imagined he did the same thing to me, although not nearly as impressed.

I didn't move or respond, instead I chose to stare at him from the ground until he broke the silence. "Your shoes. They're untied." I sat up, looking at my disheveled shoes. I stayed silent and fixed the backs of my shoes then tied them up before collapsing back onto the snow. I closed my eyes again, hoping Kurosaki would take the hint and leave me be, but he was persistent. A few minutes passed us and I could tell that he was not absent.

Snow crunching and compacting next to me filled my ears and Kurosaki's warmth radiated onto me. "I'm Ichigo."

I ignored him.

"What's your name?"

"Hm."

"Hm?"

"Go away," I finally said.

"That's a weird name."

Oh, come on.

Kurosaki remained next to me for some time. Recess had to have been coming to an end soon, I wondered what had this kid so entwined in my personal bubble.

"Grimmjow?" My name. He knows my name. What the hell.

I breathed out my nose and opened my eyes. "What?"

"Why are Gin and his friends mean to you?"

It was a good question. I gave him that. But I didn't really have a good answer. "My hair, I guess."

"Are they jealous?"

"What? No. They think I look funny."

"It's not funny to me."

"Good for you."

"I think it looks cool."

That was the first time I ever received a compliment from anyone other than my own family. I wasn't really sure how to act. Do I say thank you? Am I supposed to return the admiration?

OK, remember how I said everything was a soft spot for me? Well, Kurosaki saying something generous to me turned my insides to pudding, I realized then that I didn't care if he meant it. It was just nice to hear it. Yet hearing the way his voice declared it told me that he did indeed mean it.

My cheeks flushed and my speech altered. I boldly went for returning the compliment. "I like your... hair too."

"Thanks."

More silence crept in between us, this time much more pregnant. We both laid there until recess was dismissed. When the whistle blew and kids organized themselves back into line, I was helped up to my feet by Kurosaki.

"Hey, uh," Kurosaki fidgeted and I watched, hopeful in his next words. "Do you wanna play tomorrow?"

He must have seen the light ignite in my eyes, because before I could relay an answer, his face lit up with its signature smile.

"Y-Yeah."

"Cool. See you tomorrow, Grimmjow."

I gazed in place at Kurosaki's diminishing figure before being shuffled into place by my teacher.

I learned something for the first time about Kurosaki that day.

I liked hearing him say my name, almost like how I liked my mother saying it. It made me warm all the way down to my fingertips when my mother spoke my name, but when he said it, butterflies crowded my stomach and made me on all fidgety, anxious, and curious.

* * *

_Inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are. _-Anthony Marra

* * *

This was the time in my life when I learned that I didn't like waiting. However, looking back at this moment, I like to believe that I had every right to be impatient.

It had been five minutes since recess began. It didn't seem like much, but I was on a tight schedule. Kurosaki hadn't shown like he said he would and I was getting antsy. I replayed his words from the day before over and over, verifying our rendezvous.

"_By the cherry tree when recess starts, kay? I'll beatcha' there!"_

For the record, I won that race.

If he remembered that he was supposed to play with me that day and actually showed up, then he probably should have been prepared for an earful. I was beyond impatient, but at least there was reasoning behind my rudeness: Gin, Nnoi and Szayel. Their occurrence was an everyday thing, and I was kind of hoping Kurosaki would be my savior, giving me a day off.

Time was passing and I knew that my hopes would be flushed down the toilet. I could tell this by the looks I was receiving from my bullies. When they caught my glance, their attention was peaked. I shivered and watched as they approached me. My arms crossed over my heaving chest and I stared down at the ground submissively.

It sure would be a nice time for Kurosaki to show up. Too bad Lady Luck wasn't siding with me—big surprise there.

"Hey, Grimmjow!" Nnoitra started this time, his fake smile and hand wave was laughable. I wanted to beat the crap out of them so badly, but more than that I just wanted them to leave me alone.

Sticking to my usual cowardice, I replied in silence. It always provoked them more than talking would have.

"Grimmjow! Hey!" Nnoitra was in my space now, bending down with his head craned to see my downed face. I could smell his breath and feel his warmth. It was gross.

More silence initiated the first smack to my shoulder making me flinch harder than natural. Gin edged closer to me along with Szayel, creating a half circle around me against the tree.

I grabbed my shoulder where Nnoitra slapped me. My eyes began to well up but it wasn't because of the fresh stinging pain—Kurosaki had failed to show up and I was more disappointed than anything at that point. I just wanted to have a savior to rescue me from these punks.

Finally, I snapped, at the wrong time.

"Leave me _alone_!"

The entire playground went quiet for a few seconds, birds flew, the works. I was sobbing furiously.

No words were exchanged then, but only because they didn't have to be. All four of us knew what was coming next. I braced myself, but not quickly enough to block the hard punch to my teeth that caused the back of my head to slam against the tree. I saw stars before getting a kick to my shin and two more punches to my gut. All three of them were at it and not one soul seemed to notice. Not even Kurosaki. I didn't even fight back, it would only make my fresh cuts and bruises more abundant.

Eventually, I fell down to the ground and laid in the fetal position, accepting only kicks at that point. My sobs were so strong that I could hardly breathe right, and all I could taste was salt and that weird metallic taste of blood.

It was times like this when I would shut my mind off, almost like a self-destruct system. I just laid there limply and silent, my eyebrows relaxed and my tears stopped.

"Get away from him!" My eyes opened to the sight of Kurosaki finally avenging me by picking off my tormentors. He didn't hurt them, he just grabbed them and jerked them away from me. I scurried to my feet as it all went down, my chest heaving.

"Finally made a friend eh?" Gin said, backing away from me slowly. I watched intently as Kurosaki and he passed mean scowls at each other. "Ain't that neat." He winked at me and smiled before slowly turning around and making his way elsewhere. Thankfully.

"Grimmjow..." Kurosaki looked me up and down. I did the same, noticing the expected welts covering my legs. "Your lip is bleeding too!" he cried, hovering his fingers in front of my lips.

I touched the back of my hand to my mouth, and sure enough, blood was there. "Tch." My tough act may had been deceiving then, but by now Kurosaki could always see through it.

"A-Are you okay?!"

I stared at my shoes kicking the snow, trying to ignore my burning face and throbbing legs. "I'm used to it."

"No," Kurosaki looked more upset by it than me. Frankly, I was taken aback. "It wasn't like this before."

I knew what he meant, but I refused to play along. The last thing I wanted was pity but I couldn't bring myself to argue with him. He was completely right.

"What happened?" _Like a caring mother_ was the only thing running through my brain in that moment—how cheesy.

"I, uh," my voice creaked and cracked from all my sobbing. I picked through my head for an answer to his question. I needed to answer that for myself before telling him. "I yelled at them."

"Oh. That was you?"

A pang of anger ripped through me then. Knowing that Kurosaki was in earshot of my voice and remained unresponsive irked me. "Yeah. Where were you at?" My irritation leaked out into my words, Kurosaki noticed it; and when he did I felt regret seep its way into me.

"I was telling my friends where I would be..."

"Oh."

"You were waiting for me?"

"Duh."

"I'm sorry."

Okay, yeah. I'd gone through a beating that left me crying like a pansy with my face in the snow, but seeing Kurosaki apologizing the way he did put a bullet through my heart, made _me _feel like he was the victim and not the other way around. I don't know how, but he's always been good at that sort of thing and it kills me.

"Shut up." I didn't want his pity. I hate it when he feels sorry for me. It's like I'm a helpless little girl. So, of course, I put on my tough face. "Are we gonna go play or what?"

Like a light switch, Kurosaki went from feeling sorry for me to grinning from ear to ear and pulling me along to the playground. It had always been better when he's like this.

From then on, I didn't have to worry about Gin and the others as much. Kurosaki had later declared that, apparently, he would beat any of them up if they tried to do anything to me again. I held him to that promise. I still don't regret it.

I'll admit that he was a bit tardy in my life, but I'm not complaining. I can't, not when my world had been painted three shades lighter.


	2. preamble II

**preamble**

**II**

I suppose I should tell you how it is I got here, in this hospital, staring at Grimmjow's limp figure wrapped in these white hospital sheets. If I tell you it's because he's had a hard time with heroin and finally blew the dam then that might cut it. But then there would be nothing left to tell.

I could tell you that there's a commentary to every addict, how they each collapsed into their own personal mess. I could tell you a tale about a junkie.

But then I wouldn't be talking about Grimmjow.

And, no, I'm not saying he's not an addict. He's the biggest junkie I've ever known. All I'm trying to get across is that he's _more_ than just an addict. I've realized that people fail to notice this about him. He's a friend, a lover, a son, a teenager_ and_ a damn heroin addict. And so much more, but that's for later, yeah?

It's strange how the most unexpected people show up in your life, and you don't realize what's happened until you look back on it. You think one thing is going to happen**,** then all of a sudden you look behind you, and you realize and smile at your error.

I've always had expectations about who I might meet in the future. I figured I would be friends with people like me. I thought you had to agree and like the same things to be friends. So, naturally, I thought that people hated each other because they didn't agree. And although that could be still be true, it wasn't for me.

It took a long time to learn this, and once it finally dawned on me, I was in far too deep with Grimmjow, the waters lapping at my chest.

When I say that it took me a long time to come to this revelation that might be an understatement. Because I noticed just earlier today, in the flower shop, that I have been mentally cornered by Grimmjow. When the guy asked me if I wanted to add chocolate or a bear, I had stood there for far too long, debating it, imagining what Grimmjow might think. If he would appreciate it more, or if he would think that I was smothering him.

That was when I realized—I was a sucker for him.

But before I go on, I feel as though I should defend myself. I swear it all makes much more sense when you know everything about everything between Grimmjow and me.

But I'm not good at making myself clear, not like the brash way Rukia is. Maybe I should tell you how I, or we, turned into this complicated pair and you can see for yourself that I'm not whipped.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

* * *

_Friendships in childhood are usually a matter of chance, whereas in adolescence they are most often a matter of choice_. -David Elkind

* * *

_March_

_Karakura Elementary_

_3rd Grade_

Grimmjow had never gotten along with many people. It was always me that he came to. I never understood why I was the exception - after all, I was just like any of the other kids there. Even now, I ask myself why I was special enough for Grimmjow **-** what was it that drew him to me? I wonder if Grimmjow himself even knows.

He never wanted to play with me when I was with Tatsuki and the others. But I wouldn't abandon them for Grimmjow, nor would I abandon Grimmjow for them **-** he knew that without asking, and I could tell he didn't like it. But he had never even talked to them_,_ so it wasn't like he had a reason to dislike them. Every time I suggested that he come and play with us, he just said he didn't want to, so I never really knew what his deal was.

I had known Grimmjow for two months, and, for the most part, it wasn't too hard to figure him out. We were kids**,** though—we weren't complicated. If we were sad, we would cry, if we were mad, we would throw tantrums. It was simple. He was smart and funny. Although brutally honest too; mid-February I finally learned to ignore that trait of his. I don't think he was even aware of it.

The first vivid memory I have of Grimmjow is not a good one. But even so, I never thought hatefully of him. I think I pitied him more than anything, but I would never let him know that.

It was almost halfway through March, the snow was much scarcer than when we had met. Spring would be official soon, but the cold weather still persisted despite the inevitability of summer. The snow on the ground would melt in the morning, and when the sun set it would snow. The cycle was continuous, and it wouldn't stop until April.

That day I felt more of a mess than usual, right from the get-go, when I was still in lying in bed. My mother was having a hard time waking me up—I was in a daze and refused to move. She told me I couldn't stay in bed, before saying the same thing she always did when I got like this.

"Everyone has a job, Ichigo," I could sync my lips with hers when she said this, but only if I wanted a troubled look. "Just like it's my job to work at the clinic, it's yours to go to school" I wasn't usually one to disobey my mom, so anything she has aid probably would've had me out of bed.

When I sat up she smiled. I felt dizzy and groggy**,** but still managed to smile back. "Breakfast is downstairs." She said, before leaving my room.

I swung my legs off my bed and rubbed my eyes, before noticing that mom had placed a set of clean clothes on my dresser, as she did every morning. In small haste, I dressed myself, brushed my teeth and managed my bed-head, before making my way to the kitchen.

"Ichi, good morning!" Yuzu chimed as she saw me. Her speech lately had lacked clarity. She had lost one of her front teeth, leaving her with a slight lisp until her adult teeth materialized.

"Where's Karin?"

"She's sick today," My mother answered for me instead of my sister. She emerged from the kitchen with a glass of juice to accompany the plate set at my spot at the table.

I ate in silence, my grogginess still lingering. As I said, I felt more of a mess than usual that morning. My mom told me I was having a 'clumsy day' after I spilled my juice all over myself.

After breakfast, I was informed that as Karin was sick, she wouldn't be walking with us today, which left Yuzu, mom, and I. On our way out, my mother called out to my dad and said a quick goodbye.

During our walk, Yuzu stayed glued to mom, their hands intertwined as soon as Yuzu felt the outside air. I, however, was walking ahead of them, a determined frown painted on my brow while I gripped the straps on my backpack. About halfway to school, I slipped on a frozen patch of water and landed hard on my butt. After assuring my health wasn't in danger, Yuzu laughed, and Mom helped me up with her same smile.

"It really is a clumsy day for you," She said, concern coiled around her tone. "Oh, and your clothes, they're all wet now!" She tried patting some of the water off, but I assured her that it would dry and that I needed to get to school. So we kept going for a while, no one really saying much, until we finally got to the school.

Right as we arrived, I caught a glance of Grimmjow kicking something over by a pile of mushy snow. He was probably waiting for me, and I was excited to see him.

"Is that a new friend?" My mom asked, noticing my line of vision.

"Yeah, that's Grimmjow." I said proudly. Mom's face stayed fixated on him, then slowly forged into a worried look.

"He seems lonely," Now on one knee and looking into my eyes, she placed her hands on both my shoulders. "I'm glad you're his friend." I nodded my head in response and began walking towards Grimmjow. Before I could get too far mom had called out to me, "Have a good day, I love you!"

Later that day, during lunch, the sun had come out from behind the gloomy clouds. It was so much warmer now than it had been that morning, the sunlight shone in streaks all over the sky and the shadows of the clouds passed overhead slowly. To everyone's delight, we were eating lunch out on the playground. I had been with Orihime, Tatsuki and some other friends; we were all getting ready to eat together. But then I had seen Grimmjow from afar, slouched under the still-bare cherry tree. He had no lunch, but that was typical. Every time I tried to give him something he just told me he wasn't hungry. I even asked him why he didn't eat during lunch and he simply said again, "I'm just not hungry." Naturally, I gave up after that—after all, it was his choice; and he didn't seem to be particularly underweight, so I never put too much thought into it.

However, because he never ate, I never made it a priority to sit with him at lunch. But today, I was feeling extra generous towards him—probably because of what mom had said. Before stalking my way over to the tree, I told my friends I wouldn't be eating with them and, after a few aggravated responses, I left.

Grimmjow hadn't noticed me until I nudged him. "Oh, it's you." He said casually, seemingly trying to extinguish the fire in his eyes as they greeted mine.

"Who else?" I snickered, but Grimmjow didn't find it funny, for obvious reasons.

For a while, neither of us spoke. I ate quietly while Grimmjow closed his eyes—I had apparently disturbed his nap. Sometimes, I would watch the sky from between all the branches. The tree blocked the sun in jagged streaks—Grimmjow's eyes were just barely shaded, and the rest of his face had been illuminated with the light.

On the other side of the playground, Chad, Inoue, Ishida and Tatsuki were eating in a small circle. I could see their laughing faces, but I couldn't hear them. Everyone sat how they normally would at our lunch table, Orihime practically glued to Tatsuki, with Ishida on the other side of Orihime. There was even a space between Uryu and Chad where I would normally sit. I imagined what it might look like if I were there too. I wondered if Grimmjow ever watched, if he ever had the urge to walk over and join me. And if he did, then what stopped him?

"Hey," I poked his nose with my chopsticks until his eyes opened.

"Hm."

"Wanna go sit over there?" I pointed across the playground at my circle of friends. The obvious answer was no, but I didn't have anything to lose—plus, you never know, right? Then again, with Grimmjow, his mind usually stayed permanently closed.

"No."

My voice began to whine. "Why?" Now, Grimmjow sat up, his body faced the same way mine did. He seemed to be looking at the others too.

"I told you, I don't like them." I knew this all too well, but I always was a persistent person.

"Do you even know their names?"

"No."

"Then how-" I stopped myself, not wanting to start an argument with Grimmjow. I had never really irritated him, only when I brought up things he didn't like, but that was a natural reaction for anyone.

I was making things complicated though. There were never very many things that Grimmjow minded—he was full of simplicity. Usually, the things he had issues with never caused any trouble between him and I - I usually respected his thoughts, and we carried on as friends.

But this _one thing_.

Just _one_ fucking problem he had with my friends—it bugged me immensely, made me anxious and curious and sometimes frustrated with him.

It wasn't just my friends either—he didn't like anyone at school. I know he had his reasons, but seriously? I wanted to know why so desperately, but his answers were always half attempted or sarcastic. I still wonder now, how someone so young could be full of hatred.

No, I guess I wouldn't call it hatred. It was more like an excuse for him. The only people I could understand him hating were Gin, Nnoitra and Szyael. With everyone else it was always, 'I don't like her hair,' or 'that person laughs too much.'

Sure, I verbally accepted his reasons, but really, I was frowning inside. This part of him was not attractive and he knew it—but he embraced it. He didn't care about what others thought. I didn't understand—it wasn't likely that he just didn't want friends. The only admissible theory I could think of was that he was just astonishingly picky. But still.

"Kurosaki," My eyes and mind flickered back to reality by the edgy tone to his voice.

"Yeah, what?"

I waited a few seconds for him to respond, he was hesitant.

"Your mom... Is she nice?"

What? Why would he ask me something so out of the blue? He wasn't being causal about it either - his voice was tense and his eyes stayed fixated on anything but me. It was like he had to work up the courage, but that just didn't seem right. Not for Grimmjow.

"Why?"

"I dunno... I just always see her when school ends, she looks nice."

"Yeah, she is."

"My mom is too."

I smiled at the ground. Grimmjow never really brought anything about himself up, he was always the one to ask me about myself or things I liked. I remember that I didn't want to push my luck, so I made sure not to ask questions.

"My mom talked about you today." I said. "I told her you were my friend."

He smiled brightly this time, when he grinned this way it would reveal his small dimples. I liked them then, and I still like them now.

"I want to meet her." He beamed shyly, treading this new territory for him must have been weird

"After school then, when her and my sister come."

With a quick nod, we had dismissed our chatter and helped each other up, then made way for the playground.

* * *

_My brittle skeleton has become an abandoned motel._

_And you were its last visitor._

_Why didn't you enjoy your stay?_ -Kayla Hollatz

* * *

After my mom died I felt nothing. I don't remember for how long.

I was never happy about anything, never angry or sad, I didn't grieve. I thought that it made me a freak—why wasn't I mourning my own mom's death? Why didn't I cry? My sisters cried, they cried enough for me—for ten of me. My dad cried too, his voice was always deep and shaky, he sounded gruff all the time. But I never cried. I didn't have any will power to even look up at my family—I might as well have been dead. Sometimes I thought that if I went there, where she died, then I would be sad and angry—not just some empty carcass. If I had seen the broken windshield, or the mangled fence, then maybe I could be upset.

It wasn't like I was denying it though. I knew she was dead and gone. My mom had been hit by a car. She had broken bones everywhere, including her skull. I was told it was instant, that she didn't experience any pain, whatever anyone would say when breaking the news to someone.

When they told me, I didn't cry either. I just stared.

"What?" I had said, as if I was hard of hearing.

Grimmjow never got to meet her either. She had died that day.

It happened on her way to pick me up. Yuzu had gone with her—and she's never been the same since. After seeing her mom die right before her eyes_…_It only makes sense.

It was a woman, in her twenties. She was speeding, ran a stop sign at the crosswalk that my mom and Yuzu were crossing. Yuzu, who had been abruptly pushed away and onto the concrete by my mom's frantic touch, bumped her head and scraped her elbows—but it was certainly better than what could have happened. The woman's car went screeching across the pavement, heaving my mom right into a fence. I don't know where that woman is now, I don't know what kind of trouble she got into. I never even learned her name.

At school that day, I saw all sorts of emergency vehicles—I heard the sirens. I could see people pointing and chattering about it, but it passed as quickly as it came and the bustling of children continued on. Me and Grimmjow waited for my mom so he could meet her—I figured my mom would be happy that I wanted to introduce them—but we waited for so long, almost an hour. Grimmjow didn't leave, though, and just kept waiting in silence.

I didn't know what to think then, what to assume was keeping my mom. I just stared off and expected to see her small figure walking towards us, Yuzu's hand in tow, and her hair being rustled by the wind. I wasn't concerned until I saw my dad walking up instead, smoking for the first time since before I could remember. Grimmjow watched halfheartedly as my expression slowly morphed into confusion. My eyebrows arched up and my lips parted, Grimmjow was about to ask me something when my dad put his hand on my shoulder firmly. Too firmly.

"Who's this?" Dad said, not amused in the slightest.

"Grimmjow," I brushed his question off quickly. "Where's mom?"

Silence answered me, my dad unsure of what to say.

"Let's go home first," He smiled faintly, and it was then that I noticed his puffy eyes. Was my dad... crying?

I wanted to protest, you see—I was still stuck on getting Grimmjow to see me mom, because no one had told me what was going on. But he pushed me on forward, completely ignoring Grimmjow. I turned back to look at him with a worried look.

"Wait!"

"Sorry, Ichigo. You can't play today."

Like I said, this is the first vivid memory I have of Grimmjow. I never imagined that it would be like this.

Grimmjow never found out what happened that day. I didn't go to school for over two weeks—I abandoned him. He was furious.

After that, we were never the same. It was as if our relationship had been turned inside out; before, there weren't many things that bothered us. Now, we couldn't get through a day without telling each other to shut up. I stayed with Tatsuki and the others more often, but even they didn't act quite the same.

So, I began to hate school. My behavior record slowly became tainted, my family less proud. I expressed myself with my fists and was yelled at for it. But the yelling only made it worse.

I frightened Orihime more then.

Chad found himself defending me more, too.

Tatsuki had her guard up more at the Dojo with me.

And Ishida just ignored me more often than not.

These familiar places and people that were always only meant for happy things contradicted me. I wasn't happy here, but I was before. I lashed out because I knew I could never be content with this place again. I couldn't go back to mom gripping my hand snugly, or wake up to her face hovering over mine with her hair tickling my face. That's why I did the things I did. Of course, I had no idea then.

And now that I look back, I realize it was the rush of being a rebel that had me forcing my apprehension for my mother's death away.

I had embraced this new, bratty side to me, needless to say, it had caught up to me before long. I was surprised it took them three months to take care of the problem known as me.

Just three months.

That was the time I had left with Grimmjow before we would never see each other again.


End file.
